


Under the Red, White, and Blue

by Maeve_of_Winter



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 04:16:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18843451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maeve_of_Winter/pseuds/Maeve_of_Winter
Summary: AU where the Black Hood killed Moose instead of Midge.Still mourning for Moose months after his murder, Kevin finds himself going to visit his grave on the Fourth of July, unwilling to participate in any of the typical festivities. But he's not the only one still grieving, and a chance encounter helps remind him that he's never as alone as he might feel.





	Under the Red, White, and Blue

Moose Mason might have been gone, but he certainly wasn’t forgotten—the fresh bouquets of flowers, the American flag, and the football were all recent additions to his grave. They served as new company for the potted plants that someone had placed there in remembrance and that Kevin had taken to watering during his now regular visits to the cemetery. Even though the area was enshrouded by trees and tall shrubs provide an atmosphere of seclusion and tranquility, the shade alone couldn’t save the plants from the effects of the relentless summer heat.

Maybe it was just the night’s sticky humidity or the incessant buzz of mosquitos getting to him, but Kevin found himself irrationally annoyed by the appearance of football, old pain and fresh irritation squeezing his heart at the sight of it. Moose’s funeral and memorials, both the ones in and outside of school, had hinged on this “last football hero” sentiment that Kevin had resented since the moment it started. He thought he understood the basic notion, that Moose had contributed a lot to the school through his accomplishments on the field, but he found it kind of . . . dehumanizing, in a way. As if the only reason Moose’s death was tragic was because he was a football player.

But he was more than that, especially to Kevin. More complicated than that. There were so many things that Kevin knew, that he missed about Moose dearly but couldn’t mention: the way he smiled, which had always made a part of Kevin melt, even when he was upset with him; how gentle, how caring he could truly be; his soft, sweet kisses that he loved to put all across Kevin’s bare shoulders.

So many bits and pieces of Moose were missing from the image of this football martyr the school and the town had created, and Kevin couldn’t even tell anyone without smearing Moose’s name as lying cheater in the process. So to keep Midge from having her heart broken even further with the realization about Moose’s cheating, and to keep any gossip about Moose from being spread around, Kevin shut his mouth and kept his grief locked inside of hm.

However, even with all that he’d loved about Moose, Kevin had to admit part of Moose’s appeal had been wrapped up in his athleticism—Kevin would admit that he’d fantasizing more than once about the prospect of dating a popular football. He’d liked the idea of kissing Moose after football practice and tasting the sweat on his skin, of cheering on Moose from from the stands as he scored the winning touchdown, of Moose lending him his varsity jacket and Kevin wearing it proudly as they walked hand-in-hand down the hall at Riverdale High.     

Of course, what had mattered most to Kevin wasn’t Moose’s football-playing. It had just been the fact that Moose wanted him.

But either way, there could be none of any of it now. Of course, it hadn’t ever actually happened, and based on how things had went between him and Moose, with Moose always hiding him away, Kevin had long since faced reality that even if Moose had lived, it still never would have.

But that knowledge didn’t make Moose’s death any easier. Instead, it just made Kevin long for what might have happened in a different life where Moose had lived. In a different life where Moose had actually wanted to openly date him.

Another mosquito was buzzing around his forearm, and with a stab of annoyance, Kevin slapped it hard and then hurriedly brushed its remains away. A wave of weariness came with the slight sting of the slap, and, a sudden itch to move starting under his skin, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he should go home, call it a night.

Coming to the cemetery was something he’d started just after Hal Cooper’s arrest, when it became clear that only knowing Moose’s murderer would face justice wouldn’t be enough. Kevin had desperately wanted more, wanted to to mourn for Moose some other way. The visits had become a weekly sort of habit..

It was supposed to help, supposed to aid him in quest for closure. At first, Kevin had thought that it was. But now, right at the beginning of July, he was beginning to wonder if his continued visits were keeping him stuck instead of helping him heal. 

He picked himself up off the ground from where he’d been sitting, dusting off his hands and glancing up at the sky. The stars were already out, and a deep ache run through him as he found himself desperately wishing he could have someone to sit here with him and stargaze with him.

A sudden lump was swelling in his throat and it wouldn’t go away no matter how much Kevin tried to swallow it down. Every time he thought he was finished with his tears over Moose, finally getting over Moose, it turned out he wasn’t finished.

He wished that he could be. Reaching out, Kevin grasped the edge of Moose’s headstone and squeezed. He loved Moose, he truly did, but he was so, so  _ tired _ of hurting.

“Kevin? Is that you?”

A voice cut across the darkness, one that was familiar but he didn’t instantly recognize, accompanied by the sound of footsteps swishing across the grass. Turning, he found a petite figure walking toward him, a girl. It was only when he noticed the cropped hairstyle that he realized who it was.

“Midge,” he said, his throat still a bit clogged, and he did his best to push back the press of tears. “Hi.”

“Hey,” she replied, coming to stand only a few paces away from him, crossing a ray of moonlight as she did. The dim glow revealed the shiny tracks of recent tears still gleaming on her cheeks and a few damp patches near the neck of her yellow River Vixens T-shirt.

It looked like Kevin may not have been the only one still grieving.

“Funny thing,” Midge commented, her voice obviously trying for lightness but failing due to the rawness present. “I came out here to be alone, and yet here you are. Seems like even in death, Moose Mason is still a popular guy.” Her voice broke on the last word and a strangled sob tore out of her mouth.

Instantly forgetting about his own sadness in the wake of Midge’s evident grief, Kevin tried his best to comfort her, hesitating for only a moment before stepping closer and putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Guess it would be a stupid question if I asked if you were all right, huh?” he said said, aiming for the same tone she had and meeting the same failure. His voice was too strained to sound convincingly carefree.

Midge gave a valiant attempt at a smile. “Oh, I’m fine. I’m not usually this bad, actually. But my mom and I were arguing and I—” her voice tightened with the onslaught of tears, and she had to gulp for air several times before she could continue. “And then I realized how much I just wanted some time to myself.”

It occurred to Kevin then that Midge had far more right than he to be crying at Moose’s graveside, and a pang of guilt struck him for intruding, even though he hadn’t meant to be. “I can go—” he began, but Midge stopped him.

“Oh, don’t, please. I didn’t mean it like that,” she replied hastily, swiping at her eyes. “Just—my mom’s been on my case all day, and my dad . . . well, an air mattress would give me more support than he ever would.”

Kevin couldn’t hold back an amused huff at the comment; it was an especially funny remark when it came from Midge, who was typically quite mild. But he sobered instantly, recognizing his amusement didn’t have much of a place in their current situation.

“I’ll listen,” he offered, admittedly somewhat awkwardly. He didn’t really know Midge too well, and given that he’d been lusting after her boyfriend almost the entire time they’d been dating, it didn’t seem like being her confidante was very appropriate. But he couldn’t help feel bad for her, and he himself knew what it was like to be grieving but not have anyone to talk to. 

Besides, he would be lying if he said he didn’t still feel guilty about helping Moose cheat on her.

As she registered what he’d said, Midge paused for a moment, clearly indecisive, but then she gave a surprisingly firm nod. “I . . . I’d like that actually. But I don’t want to get you down. It’s some heavy stuff and it’s personal.”

“That’s okay.” Maybe it was selfish, but Kevin couldn’t help but feel relieved to that someone else hadn’t finished mourning Moose yet. “I can handle it,” he added, trying to encourage her.

Recognizing his tone, Midge cast him a wan smile. “Thanks. I don’t know, it’s just . . . oh, I don’t know.” She sighed, folding her arms across her chest. “My parents think I should be over Moose by now. That I should be  _ over _ my boyfriend being murdered onstage, in public, by a serial killer.” Tears and anger swept into her voice. “The way they act about this, you’d think I was just some melodramatic diva who’s making a big deal out of nothing. And I’m sick of it, so tonight when my  mom wanted me to go to a barbecue someone from her work is holding, I said that I didn’t feel like it, and then she kept bugging me, I snapped at her about it. You would have thought I’d cussed her out from how offended she got about it, her and my dad both.”

Even though he had volunteered his counsel, Kevin found himself at a loss of what to say. His dad had always been supportive in everything he did, from sports to dating to trying out new dinner recipes. Sometimes, even with a best friend who had Alice Cooper for a mother, he forgot that not everyone had a parent like that.

“I’m sorry,” he finally offered, not sure how else he could comfort Midge. “It’s not fair that they expect you to already have forgotten about Moose.” And even though he didn’t know either Mr. or Mrs. Klump, a spike of anger toward them pierced through him, both for the way they were pressuring Midge and for their refusal to recognize the full extent of the pain that Moose’s loss had caused her.  

Midge brushed at her eyes again. “They just  just doesn’t get what it’s like for me now, to have everyone looking at me with pity or speaking with hushed voices. I’m always under a microscope now and I hate it, and I didn’t want to be tonight, and Mom hated that. She wants me to go back to normal, but you know what I want? Just some goddamn peace and quiet without her and my dad nagging at me.”  

Not knowing what else to do, Kevin found himself reaching out again and giving her shoulder squeeze this time, his mind racing as he did. When Moose died back in the spring, he’d been careful to only show the appropriate amount of grief that any friend would, not wanting to reveal the secret on-again, off-again affair between himself and Moose. And then when the funeral was over and the makeshift memorials started to be taken down, Kevin had done his best to pretend he was finished grieving, that Moose was no longer at the forefront of his mind. Except he had been, and it was agonizing to not be able to speak to anyone about it.

Never had he once considered that it might also be difficult for the ones who were mourning publicly, who were known to have close connections with Moose and now were the subject of gossip all over town. Locking his heartache away had been an ongoing struggle, but at least that way Kevin had been afforded privacy, even though it had suffocating to be reduced to a prisoner to his own emotions. Midge, well-known for being Moose’s girlfriend and with all kinds of attention on her afterward as a result, hadn’t possessed that same privilege of escaping everyone’s attention.

The realization prompted a response of certainty from him, even when just seconds ago, he’d been left unsure what to say.

“It sucks,” he stated flatly. “It sucks that you’re trying to mourn for someone you loved and that other people who didn’t love him as much are pissed that you’re not mourning according to their schedule.”

“Y-y-yeah,” Midge replied in a wobbly voice. “Yeah, it does.”  

She stepped forward then, surprising him by wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her face into his neck. While taken aback by the contact, Kevin only hesitated a moment before reciprocating the embrace, not wanting to make her feel worse than she already was by not responding.

As he held her in his arms, he could feel her shoulders trembling under his hands and it was only seconds before they began shaking in earnest as she started crying again, her tears moistening the front of his shirt. And as much as Kevin wanted to be the one comforting her, to be strong for both of them, he found that he could no longer hold back the tears stinging at his own eyes, and droplets began to trail down his cheeks and drip into Midge’s dark hair.

Not sure how much longer either of them would have the strength to stand, Kevin lowered himself and Midge to the ground. He was slightly startled when he found himself automatically leaning up against Moose’s headstone for support, but he was too tired and sad to care very much. Besides, he supposed that headstones were ultimately intended to help those who were grieving, and thus it was serving its purpose.

For several minutes they sat there, gripping each other for support as they each wept, mourning their shared loss. Even when both of their tears had run dry, they remained as they were, until Midge drew in a deep, steadying breath and pulled back.

“Thanks,” she told him, genuine gratitude in her voice, accompanied by a hint of sheepishness. “I’m sorry for being such a wreck, but I just . . . I don’t know how to let go of Moose. Maybe I’m just not ready. It might sound weird, but I think maybe that I’m still in love with him. I . . .” she trailed off, shaking her head.  “Honestly, who the hell knows? Whatever’s going on, it’s taking its toll.” She let out a weary sigh.

Kevin couldn’t help but look at her sharply for her remarks; she had just verbalized what he’d been going through ever since Moose had been murdered. Not being able to let go of his memory, not being able to put aside the pain of losing him.

Maybe Midge knew his pain better than he’d thought possible, he realized. Maybe he should have found a way to reach out sooner.

“Look at me, just talking all about myself.” Midge wasn’t quite able to give him a smile, but there was obvious warmth in her gaze when she looked at him. “Sorry, I don’t mean to seem self-centered.”

“You’re not,” Kevin told her immediately.

She did manage a smile this time, before growing somber. “You must miss him a lot, too. To be here now, I mean. And Moose talked about you all the time.”

Kevin’s heart leapt into his throat. “R-really?” he stammered, barely daring to believe it.

Midge nodded. “Yeah. You were bio partners, right? He always mentioned the funny comments you made during class and how you helped cover for him a few times when he didn’t do his part of the work. He must have really liked you—I don’t think I ever heard him speak a word against you. And whenever some jackass—Cheryl, mostly—would try to badmouth you, he’d shut them down. And whenever he mentioned you, this smile would come over his face, like—” 

Kevin could hear her voice change, hear the lightness that lifted up her tone as she talked about Moose, and maybe she knew it, too, because she broke off abruptly, swallowing. 

“Well, you just must have been someone really special to him,” she finished after a brief silence. “I know he valued you and your opinion.”

The acknowledgement brought strange hybrid of grief and happiness to flow through Kevin, and he wondered wildly for a moment if Midge knew, or had any kind of suspicion of his and Moose’s mutual interest in each other. A yearning started within him, so unpredicted that it startled him, to tell her of what had happened between them, but he quashed the urge as much as he could. Still, it remained, nagging at him, but he wouldn’t let it come to fruition.  

Maybe he would tell her of it one day. But now wasn’t the time.

Luckily, he was saved from responding by a sudden burst of light from above them, followed by a loud boom. He whipped his head up to find that that the annual fireworks display had begun, with brilliant flashes of color flaring brilliantly against the dark sky.

“Heh.” Midge let out a faint chuckle. “Almost forgot about them.” She turned to Kevin. “Stay and watch with me?” she invited him. A hint of insecurity entered her voice. “Seems silly now that we’d just go off to each watch them on our lonesome.”

A part of Kevin didn’t want to stay, both because of the continued temptation to tell Midge about himself and Moose, and also because suddenly his surroundings seemed to be suffocating him, closing in around him, and it was all he wanted to do to leave the cemetery behind.

But he knew he’d be a coward to to abandon Midge now, and he’d never been good at saying no to people, so he nodded.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, with far more conviction that he felt.

So he remained, listening to the fizzles and rumbles of the fireworks there with Midge, that lump in his throat rising again as he realized this was the first Fourth of July he could remember that he wasn’t joyfully celebrating the occasion with his family. Usually this day was just happy and carefree, the summer only having just begun and the weeks before school started again stretching out like a long and welcoming road ahead of him. 

Usually he had so much to look forward to at this point: road trips with friends, weekends at the fishing cabin with his dad, visiting his grandparents on their farm just as August began. But not this year. All he had now was a long summer of wallowing in misery without being able to tell anyone what was happening to him. 

Tears stung at his eyes again, and as much as he wanted to push them away, he found that he no longer had the willpower, the droplets dripping down from his cheeks in spite of his attempts to force them away. 

The wind suddenly picked up then, rustling through the tree leaves, stirring the grass, and causing the light fabric of their shirts to ripple. After a moment or two, Kevin thought he could detect the faint swell of music, just barely audible over the strong breeze. At first he thought he might be imagining it, but then it occurred to him that he recognized the melody, and he realized that they were listening to the National Anthem. The wind was carrying the music from the Fourth of July celebration Pickens Park all the way over to them.

It was a strange sensation, inadvertently listening to the brass section from a distant ceremony filled with pomp and circumstance, especially when the entire reason he’d come to the cemetery was to escape that kind of commotion.

Midge seemed cheered by the noise, chuckling slightly as it registered. “Listen,” she said, turning to Kevin. “Do you hear—” she broke off when she spotted the tears on his face. “Oh, Kevin.”

Embarrassed, he looked away, dreading the embrace he feared would inevitably follow, very aware that the gesture would only further increase the vague claustrophobia that had overcome him.

But, perhaps sensing his panic and dismay, the only move Midge made toward him was gently taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. Relieved at her understanding, Kevin squeezed back and didn’t let go afterward.

As he did, something in his chest, the relentless tightness around his heart, the aching, ever-present knowledge that Moose was gone forever, seemed to lessen slightly. Now that he’d found a kindred spirit, the world seemed just a tiny bit brighter and the path ahead of him not as insurmountable and exhausting as it had looked just moments earlier.

His heart not quite as heavy as it once had been, Kevin sat there beside Moose’s grave with Midge, gripping her hand, as the fireworks flashed and then faded away above them.


End file.
